On the River Near Chang Mountain
- Poetry of Xu Zaisi

Hills far away,

Hills close;

All a blur of blue-green.

Confusion of stones in the rapids as we sail against the current.

Narrow as if the joined clouds were walls.

Sun sinks, crows at dusk;

West wind and homeward geese.

I sigh because the way is hard.

Blocked here

Then blocked again,

And everywhere fish soup to eat!